Yolanda's Diary
by cerezita72903
Summary: The title says it all. If you haven't read Julia Alvarez's novel How the Garcia Girls Lost their Accents, you won't understand what I'm basing this fic on.


**1****st**** Entry:**

Dear Little Book,

I love it when Mamita and Papito leave the Island and go to New York. They always bring back a little something for us kids! I remember that they got me a loud drum, a watercolor set with different brushes, and an American cowgirl outfit (to match Mundin's). Mundin and I are best friends, but the family doesn't want us to be so close because he is a boy and I am a girl. Since I am a girl, they want me to start acting like one. But I don't care. Mundin's my cousin, so we were going to be close anyways. I remember another time that Mamita and Papito went to New York, only this time, they took our Tia Mimi (who loves her books and gardening, but nothing else) with them. I can't believe that they let Tia Mimi talk them into buying books and school supplies instead of toys! But, when Tia Mimi wasn't looking, Mamita came back and gave us some toys! I got a paddle with a ball attached to it and Mundin got a ball of clay. It took a while, but I got him to negotiate with me for some of it, I said, "I'll give you whatever you want." He said that I had to show him I was a girl. He said we could go into the old coal shed where the gardener kept his tools, and show him in there. Fifi kept following us, and unless I let her in the shed, she was going to go tell on us. Fifi and I both pulled down our panties and pants, revealing that we were girls; and Mundin divided the clay between the both of us. I was so mad! He promised _me_ the clay, NOT Fifi! He's so mean!

* * *

><p><strong>2<strong>**nd**** Entry: **

Sweet Little Book,

This is my first year in New York, so English is something really new for me. I go to the Catholic school near our apartment. My fourth grade teacher was Sister Zoe; she is a very nice and grandmotherly. She said that I had such a pretty name, that she made me teach the whole class how to pronounce it. Since I am the only immigrant in my class, Sister Zoe had me sit apart from everyone so that she could give me extra help without bothering any of my classmates. I picked up enough English to understand the things happening around me. At school, we were practicing what to do during an air-raid; Sister Zoe even drew a picture showing how everything would happen. It looked a lot like a mushroom. One day, after seeing the picture, I looked outside and saw some white bits floating out of the sky, so I thought we were going through an air-raid! I told this to Sister Zoe, and she told me that it was just snow. Now that I know what it is, I want to go and play in it. Maybe I'll do that when I get home.

* * *

><p><strong>3<strong>**rd**** Entry:**

Dearest Diary,

When I went to boarding school, one of my teachers said that I had a "vivacious personality". I had many callers because of my ability to make the guys believe that they could have a real conversation with a girl. However, when I left for college, this personality of mine became a problem with my first love. His name was Rudolf Brodermann Elmenhurst, the third. I know, I know; a real mouthful, right? That's why everyone just called him Rudy. We met in our English class; I was the first to arrive to class and he was ten minutes late. He was a "bad boy" and I was the good girl. After one month of going out, he tried to get me to sleep with him. I, of course, declined every time that he proposed that we, "screwed, fucked, balled, laid". In the beginning, he had an infinite amount of patience with me; he would wait until I was ready. But, after a while, he became impatient and more insistent. It was like this for a long time, and I was slowly running out of excuses for why we shouldn't make love. But that was it, I wanted to make love. I wanted my first time to be special and mean something.

Finally, Rudy had had enough and would no longer put up with my excuses, so we broke up. It shattered my heart, leaving him; I was so sure that he would follow me and beg me to come back. Although my heart did heal with time, it sometimes stings. I am grateful for Rudy; he made me open up a bit, made me consider things differently.

* * *

><p><strong>4<strong>**th**** Entry:**

My Dear Diary,

My name's not Joe, it is _Yolanda_. My name is _Yo_, no way in heck is it _Joe_! I used to have a love, I had John, and he had me. I used to think we were right for each other, but I guess we just didn't fit right; we weren't the two halves of the same heart or soul. He went as far as to make a pro- and con- list on whether or not he should marry me! I just can't believe it! The nerve! He thought that I was crazy for using bits of my former language. It was either I use his language or have a fight with him, and I don't particularly enjoy fighting with him. He just took things too seriously, he believed in the "Real World" more than he believed in _me_, his own wife! He broke me; he tried to make love to me whenever he pleased at night, no matter that it was too hot or if I wasn't feeling up to it. After I found that pro- and con- list, things got a little more difficult between us. I still loved him, but because of him, I reverted to a language in which I couldn't understand him... or him me. I had mentally forced him from me, whether I consciously did it or not, I'm no longer sure. I sometimes have memories of what we were and what we once had, but I try not to have them. I'm slowly coming back to myself, but I doubt that I will ever go back to him. I think that I am falling in love with my therapist, Doc. He is so good to me; he is the reason why I am slowly being able to use my own words again, not those of someone else. Maybe what I feel for Doc is what love is supposed to be?

* * *

><p><strong>5<strong>**th**** Entry:**

Dear Diary,

I've finally come back to my Island in _la Republica Dominicana_, but this time, I think I'm here to stay. It's been five years since the last time that I've visited _la familia. _I've missed them all so much! They even went as far as to throw me a little _fiestecita_! My cousins have changed so much; I can't even recognize most of them. At least my _tias _haven't changed much, they're still always complaining about the "help," and how I look as if I'm not eating properly. They say that it's because I've been away too long, that I must stay on our Island this time. They've brought out a cake in the shape of our island and I, along with all of my little cousins, divide the cake. It wasn't easy; I'll admit that. So many children wanting the same cities on only ONE cake! I'm lucky to not have children. After eating that delicious cake, I am left with but one _antojo_, one last craving: guavas. I tell everyone that I will go north and find some guavas to satisfy my _santo_. As always, they think I'm crazy for wanting to go out on my own, without the company of anyone. They say it's too dangerous for women to go out by themselves now a days. Thank god that my cousin Mundin, the _prince_ of the family, has a reasonable enough wife who will loan me one of their cars to go and do as I please. In fact, I think I'll go tomorrow and get my _guayabas_. This life of mine has been so hectic the last few days that I'm glad that I at least have some time to relax and satisfy myself. I can tell that it will take some time to readjust, but I know that I will enjoy being my _real_ self again.

Short Author's Note: HI! ^v^ This is the first time I've ever posted anything on here, so I hope it's ok. I know it's more of a summary for the character Yolanda from _How the Garcia Girls Lost their Accents,_ I'm trying to come up with something for a future fic, I don't know what yet. However, if you have a crazy english teacher that actually wanted you to read a book off of the "preapproved" summer reading list, then pick a character to write about, this WILL come in handy if HtGGLtA is on that list. Leave me a revie please! ;)


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